


you make me crazy (you make me wild)

by The_Consulting_Werewolf



Series: i blame all the sexy songs for this [1]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, like seriously very little plot though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:07:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11112894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Consulting_Werewolf/pseuds/The_Consulting_Werewolf
Summary: (this was not supposed to happen, yet it did)Junmyeon knows Yifan is unstoppable and Yifan finds Junmyeon irresistible.





	you make me crazy (you make me wild)

**Author's Note:**

> fic title taken from Lana Del Rey's 'American'

Junmyeon wonders how it always ends up like this, with him panting and naked on the same old soft cotton bed sheets as _he_ kisses him senseless with his hot, wet mouth.

Yifan wonders how it always ends up like this, with the small body flushed naked and beautiful and wanton underneath him as he paints _him_ red with his mouth and teeth and grip.

When the unstoppable force met the irresistible object, they clashed and the dangerous heat engulfed them both.

 

Kim Junmyeon both curses and thanks the day his eyes fell on Wu Yifan on one of those achingly boring functions he accompanied his husband to. They were all the same; men in expensive suits and women dripping in immoderation, and the same old chatter and alcoholism.

His husband was older than him, at least by fifteen years and honestly he didn't even love the man, but there was a modicum of fondness somewhere. The man was respectful yet boring and Junmyeon doesn't even remember the last they had sex. Well, that's what you get when you marry the Police Commissioner.

Then he met Wu Yifan, in dyed white hair and fake vintage glasses, coolly sipping his champagne at the corner of the party, surrounded by a gaggle of women ten times his age.

Junmyeon couldn't stop staring. Yifan was _different_ ; his aura, his smile, his rich maroon velvet smoking jacket put him apart from the rest of the black-and-white men in the room. And Junmyeon couldn't take his eyes away.

His husband noticed. He grunted in disgust. "I don't understand why the criminal was invited."

Junmyeon swivelled his head and blinked up at his husband with curiosity. "Criminal?"

"Yes. Wu Yifan of the Wu-Han Limited. It's an open secret that they have strong ties to the triads and the yakuza _and_ the Korean mafia."

Junmyeon widened his eyes. Even as a teacher, he knew what that meant. He took a long sip of his red wine and asked, "So why is he running free then?"

His husband ducked his head, as if ashamed and grumbled, "Lack of evidence."

Junmyeon patted his spouse's back and smiled sweetly. His husband looked at him and smiled back. At forty one, his husband was still handsome, yet he couldn't find himself attracted, and it has been two years since they got married. If only he had that magnetic appeal...

...Like Wu Yifan did. Junmyeon looked back at him, and a shiver crawled up his spine when he finds Yifan looking right back at him. The Chinese man smirked and Junmyeon felt his cheeks heat up, strangely so.

An hour later, conversation around him becomes white noise and the air gets thick with the smell of alcohol and food. He excused himself from his husband's side and goes off to locate a veranda. When he finds one, he pushed the doors open and stepped into the cool autumn air. He sighed and let the cool wind caress his dark hair.

"Nice night," a deep male voice spoke behind him. When Junmyeon looked back, a thrill of something dark and dangerous jolted through his blood. Wu Yifan was casually leaning against the doorframe, that smirk in place, his eyes shining like he finally found what he was looking for. And Junmyeon was taken aback by his appeal. He felt the pull of attraction and he keeps feeling it as Yifan closes in on him. Their eyes met and something happens. Something utterly indescribable but intense. Like an asteroid crashing on the Earth's surface, or the sudden ignition of a match. Junmyeon didn't know. Yifan is standing a foot away from him when he said, "The Commissioner's husband is rather attractive."

Junmyeon chuckled, his cheeks got red. "So, you know me and my husband?"

Yifan rubbed the back of his neck. The movement pushes his collar to the side and Junmyeon glimpsed collarbones. He averted his eyes, but he supposed his reddened cheeks gave him away as Yifan grinned, "Met him one too many times. I guess he gave you my golden character sketch?"

Junmyeon smirked. "Well, he did. So are you as dangerous as they say you are?"

Yifan's smile dropped and Junmyeon felt both hot and cold at the subdued, dangerous gleam in his eyes. Yifan leaned down (the man was easily a foot taller than Junmyeon) and brought his lips close to Junmyeon's ear, "Would you like to find out?"

And as Junmyeon’s skin prickled due to the deep, sensual voice, that's how the beginning of the end started.

 

Two weeks later Junmyeon found a huge bouquet of lilies in his office at the university. Since he shared his office with another teacher, his colleague, Chaerin grinned, "Oh someone misses their husband!"

Junmyeon grinned and he did not let it falter when he reads the name and number on the card tucked carefully underneath the fragrant flowers.

_The flowers reminded me of the paleness of your skin. I would like to see you again. Call me, and don’t tell your husband._

_Yifan_

_O30xxxx_

And that's when the end truly began.

 

Junmyeon went that day, after he saved the number, sent a message and got a reply from Yifan with an address. Every last sensible cell in his body warned him, but he couldn’t forget the way Yifan looked at him that day, or the way his voice sent shivers down his body. He _wanted_ to see Yifan again, which made no sense.

The CEO of the huge company had invited him to a club he owned after work. Junmyeon is not a club person, yet he went, lured in by the baritone on the phone telling him the address. As he entered there after work, the heavy bass thumped through the speakers and thudded against his heart. He felt a bit underdressed in his simple white button-down and trousers, but he didn’t risk going home and changing. He raked his eyes over the dancefloor, which is a mess of writhing, grinding bodies lost in their alcohol-induced ecstasy. He felt stuffy, so he headed towards the bar for a drink. As he ordered a neat whiskey, a shiver rain up his spine when a hand landed on his waist. He didn’t have to look behind him to know, and as lips brushed against his ear, he dragged his teeth over his lip. The voice told him to come with him upstairs. Junmyeon mutely nodded, and follows, not before collecting his drink.

There is a VIP room upstairs, probably reserved 365 days in the year for the boss. The room was done up in black velvet and golden highlights. The only furniture was a long red sofa placed in front of the glass wall that provided an unobstructed view of the dancefloor. The music was muted, yet the sultry bass still thumped against his blood. The lights in the room were low, but Junmyeon could see Yifan in clear detail: his white hair all mussed up, his blue shirt unbuttoned till his sternum, the fitted black pants hugging his lithe physique and the darkness of his gaze. They settled down on the couch and Junmyeon sipped his drink as Yifan closely watched him, that smirk in place. Yifan asked, “Did you wonder why I sent you flowers and my number?”

Junmyeon shook his head, he is intelligent, he fathomed easily enough. “I surmised two reasons,” he raised his hand, pointer finger up in the air. “One, you want to know what my husband is up to so you can cover your ass.” As Yifan chuckled, he realised that Yifan didn’t mind his bluntness, “And two…” He halted as his lips curled up in an enigmatic smile.

Yifan puts down his glass of gin, and closed in, sliding closer to Junmyeon, who didn’t even try to move away. “Two?”

Junmyeon’s gaze flicked between Yifan’s dark eyes filled with lust and his full lips. He took a deep breath and puts the half-empty glass of whiskey away. He didn’t know where he was getting the push from, but he grabbed the collar of Yifan’s midnight blue shirt and licked his lip. His voice dropped to a whisper as he said, “Two, this has nothing do with my husband…If lilies reminded you of me, that means you spend a lot of time thinking about me. And you knew where I worked at. Obsessive much?”

“And yet here you are?” Yifan lightly brushed his lips against the corner of Junmyeon’s lips, and this slight touch is enough to set Junmyeon on fire.

Junmyeon hooded his eyes and took Yifan’s lower lip between his teeth. He nipped at it, before soothing over the bite with his tongue. He heard Yifan take a deep, shaky breath. With an even lower voice he admitted, “Can’t lie, I thought about you too.”

And he did, and as he did, he remembered regarding his husband’s peacefully sleeping form beside him and feeling his guilt disappear when he realised he felt no shame in getting what he wanted from someone else. So, what if the someone else could be the most dangerous man in Seoul?

Yifan then said nothing else as he kissed Junmyeon harshly and deeply, deluging Junmyeon with his desire. Junmyeon never had been kissed like this, and he gave in, relinquishing all his control. As Yifan pushed his tongue in his mouth, Junmyeon opened up and moaned.

Soon, clothes and shame disintegrated as the bass rose outside and the heat in the room scalded their skin. Gasps, moans and cries filled the small, dark room. Skin, warm and flushed, yielded under fingertips. This was pure, organic need bottled up and pushed away for one, and thriving and potent for another. Junmyeon cried tears of pleasure when Yifan rammed into him from behind; and Yifan nearly blacked out from the power of his own release.

Later, when their bodies were still melded together, and Junmyeon was being kissed insane by Yifan, he knew he was coming back for seconds. And Yifan knew he hadn’t had enough yet. He had to debauch Junmyeon some more, in other places and in so many other ways.

 

That night, Junmyeon faked his sleep and hid under his cover as his husband kissed the top of his head to say his goodnight. Junmyeon waited for the guilty twist of his heart, but he found none. All he could remember was the wet mouth on his warm skin, the long fingers inside him and the electric touches on his body.

 

Now, they know their relationship is nothing but lust. Yet, here they are again and it has been a year and a thousand clandestine meetings later. Yifan dyed his hair back to black while Junmyeon got a promotion and a new office. Yifan now knows what kind of tea Junmyeon likes for breakfast and Junmyeon knows how the smell of gunpowder settles on clothes and skin. Yifan knows how to reduce Junmyeon into a mess of moans and tears, and Junmyeon knows what each tattoo on Yifan’s skin means. Yifan knows Junmyeon likes to be held when they end up asleep together sometimes, and Junmyeon knows Yifan enjoys showering with him the mornings after. Junmyeon knows Yifan is weak for his pout and Yifan knows Junmyeon goes weak in his knees whenever he kisses him under his ear. They never questioned this arrangement, and honestly, none of them felt the desperate need to. Junmyeon was married and Yifan led a dangerous life when the sun went down in Seoul. So, this was fine. It has gotten a bit like an addiction, but they both knew their next hit was available whenever either of them wanted it. Junmyeon would drop everything and Yifan would do the same.

His husband wasn’t lying when he said Yifan had ties to the criminal world, and at first Junmyeon did wonder if Yifan seduced him (with little to no effort) to get to his husband, but as a year passed and the trees outside Yifan’s penthouse turned golden again, Junmyeon’s doubts disappeared. Yifan never asked Junmyeon about his husband and Junmyeon has stopped counting how many times he had gotten the whiff of blood and gunpowder wafting out of Yifan’s many expensive suits.

Tonight, Yifan is running late, even though the older messaged Junmyeon to come over. Junmyeon quickly finished grading the term papers, and hurried over, only to nurse the half bottle of Italian red wine they opened the last time. Junmyeon is going to pour himself his third glass when the he hears the door unlocking to Yifan’s apartment. He curls up on the sofa with a pout on his face, ready to admonish Yifan for keeping him waiting. However, the pout melts when he sees blood on Yifan’s shirt. He quickly gets up from his seat and rushes towards the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. This was not a new occurrence, Junmyeon has found Yifan stumbling and bleeding into his apartment one too many times.

When Junmyeon returns, Yifan is hunched over the kitchen counter, a pack of frozen French fries on his arm. He has shed his jacket and Junmyeon can see the ugly bruise on Yifan’s left bicep. He puts down the kit on the counter and Yifan gives him a small smile. With his good hand, he drops the frozen packet and drags Junmyeon closer by curling his fingers on the latter’s nape. Junmyeon is putty as Yifan plants soft kisses on his jaw. His eyes close on their own, relishing in the gentle kisses, but there is a pressing matter at hand. So, he pushes Yifan away with a condescending eyebrow. Yifan grins sheepishly. Junmyeon opens the kit and grabs the bottle of antiseptic and the roll of gauze, “So what did you do this time?”

Yifan raises his hands up in surrender as Junmyeon unbuttons his shirt, looking for the cause of all the blood. “Just cracked my knuckles. That blood ain’t mine.”

Junmyeon makes a face and pushes the shirt off Yifan’s body. He chucks it aside, “Tell your housekeeper to use the premixed detergent spray.”

“I will,” Yifan grins as Junmyeon takes one of his large hands in his smaller hand and gently dabs the medicine, cleaning the dried blood off his split knuckles. “Though getting me out of my shirt is easy enough.”

Junmyeon sends him an unamused look and continues his administrations. Sometimes, when he waits for Yifan, he wonders if he will ever see the man entering his house again. But Yifan always come back, with a bloody lip or with cuts or bruises. He gently cleans his wounds and wraps the gauze around the long, bony fingers. He raises one palm to his face and plants a kiss on the soft, calloused flesh. Yifan pulls him closer and kisses Junmyeon, something that he had been thinking of doing as he fought with the goons from across the river.

Junmyeon gives in, and wraps his arms around Yifan’s shoulder. Yifan tastes like smoke and bad decisions, but Junmyeon is heavily addicted to this taste. He allows Yifan to lift him onto the marble counter and suck on his tongue. Yifan’s large hands roam all over his body, and soon they reach under his loose sweater. The clothing item is soon wrenched off his body and Yifan’s mouth latches onto his neck and then down and down and down till Junmyeon emits a sharp cry when Yifan bites down on his nipple. He pulls Yifan’s hair by its roots and gasps, “Bedroom.”

Yifan nods and pulls Junmyeon down from the counter. They somehow make it to Yifan’s bedroom of grey walls and blindingly white, bleached cotton sheets. Junmyeon pushes Yifan down and crawls up over him. He puts a little pressure on Yifan’s crotch and watches the latter keen at the slow grinding motions with a smug expression. He loves how Yifan always loses bits of his mind around him. He loves how he is the one making a mess out of Yifan. He feels Yifan hardening under his butt and leans over to kiss Yifan as he pushes down the fly of his pants, not waiting to stroke Yifan’s cock through his briefs. Yifan large hands come to grip his waist hard, and he knows there will be bruises there for days (and he loves that as well).

Yifan kisses Junmyeon back with fervour and desperation. Junmyeon tastes like sweet wine and desire and god, Yifan can get so ridiculously high off it. His tongue traces every last corner of Junmyeon’s sinful mouth and without any warning flips them over. Junmyeon squeaks but bursts into giggles. But his giggling turns into moaning when Yifan presses his hand over the bulge in Junmyeon’s jeans. The younger throws his head back and says, “Take them off.”

Yifan heeds and gets rid of Junmyeon’s jeans. He strokes his hand over the gorgeous expanse of milky skin, perfect and taut. He scoots back and grabbing one slim ankle, places a kiss on the back of Junmyeon’s thigh. He bites into the soft flesh and Junmyeon keens as Yifan starts marking him all over his leg. He wrenches Junmyeon’s underwear off and is about to put his hand around Junmyeon’s cock, when the latter halts him, “Wait.” Junmyeon sits up and grabs the lube from the bedside table. “Your fingers are bandaged, so today you watch.”

And so, Junmyeon lubes his fingers and falls back on to the bed. Yifan kneels back and watches with rapt, breathless attention as Junmyeon inserts one finger into his puckered hole. Junmyeon sighs and starts pumping his fingers in and out of himself. He follows with another finger and whimpers as he stretches himself. Yifan wants to push Junmyeon’s hands away and wants to be the one to make Junmyeon shamelessly moan, but he knows the younger has a point. So, he starts stroking himself as he watches Junmyeon pleasuring himself. The younger’s pale body is flushed a sublime shade of pink. He raises his head a little and his glassy eyes and red mouth is so, so painfully beautiful that Yifan forgets to breathe for a second.

Junmyeon’s gaze lands on the bulbous head of Yifan’s cock in his grip. He cannot wait, he removes his fingers and wipes them on the bedsheet. He gasps, “So, how do you want me?”

Yifan hovers over Junmyeon again. He traces his thumb over Junmyeon’s wet, loose rim and says, “Ride me babe?”

Junmyeon laughs at the question. Yifan pushes his thumb inside and he chokes, “Okay baby. Come here.”

Yifan crawls over to slot his lips against his. He breaks the kiss and lies down beside Junmyeon, who gets up and scrambles over Yifan. He grabs Yifan’s cock in his hand and pumps it once, twice. He positions himself, and as he is about to sink down on Yifan, the older grabs his hips, “You sure you are ready?”

Junmyeon grins. “I have been ready since the morning.” When Yifan frowns minutely, Junmyeon leans down and whispers directly into his ear, “I fingered myself in the shower thinking about the way you fucked me in my office three days ago.”

Yifan bites his lip and shakes his head. “Gosh, Junmyeon, you— _ah_!”

Junmyeon pushes himself down, leaving Yifan unable to finish his sentence. Junmyeon, even after so many times, is still deliciously tight around him, and he loves it so much. Yifan loves how Junmyeon can always take more of him and leave him wanting for more. Yifan loves how perfectly they fit. He loves the moment when Junmyeon tries to adjust to his size and sit pretty on top of him, his gorgeous face flushed and screwed up in pleasure.

Junmyeon shifts a little and shivers when he feels Yifan’s cock throbbing inside him. He knows Yifan wants to move, but he restrains himself because he doesn’t want to hurt Junmyeon. He throws his head back and lifts a little, Yifan helping him as he guides his hips. Junmyeon sinks down again and this time, it is close to his prostate. He hoods his eyes and whispers, “Fuck me Yifan.”

Yifan smiles and the next time Junmyeon lifts himself up, he moves his hips up as Junmyeon comes down. He pushes hard and fast and Junmyeon moans, his eyes screwed shut. Soon, Junmyeon finds his rhythm, and is bouncing up and down as he drives Yifan crazy.

This is nothing new and Yifan has had him in every way possible, had possessed him in every way too, but every time he loses himself at how good Yifan feels filling him like this, to the brim, overwhelming with the silent possession of his being. Junmyeon picks himself up and down again, chasing his climax, even though his muscles burn with exertion. He wants to come, so he wraps his hand around his length and starts pumping himself. Yifan takes over and by putting his feet flat on the bed, controls the thrusts, so each one has hitting Junmyeon right where he wants it to hit. The pressure builds and builds and Junmyeon knows he is so, so close.

At an especially sharp jab at his prostate, Junmyeon feels the heat unfurling down his body and unravelling all the knots and with a sharp cry he comes all over Yifan’s chest. As ribbons of white coat Yifan’s body, Junmyeon clenches down hard on Yifan’s length, and the older moans at the ridiculous pressure on his cock. He flips Junmyeon over, throwing his legs over his shoulders, and even though Junmyeon is starting to soften and is a bit sensitive, he still moans at the way Yifan’s pulsing cock pushes in and out of him, catching his rim and his body keeps sucking him in, as if not done with being filled yet. Yifan groans, “Oh Junmyeon, you make me crazy you know?”

Junmyeon moans in response at the wild way Yifan chases his orgasm, skin slapping against skin. Few more thrusts in, Yifan comes hard and long inside Junmyeon and the latter whimpers at the warm liquid filling him, and the excess trickling out of him. Yifan slumps over him and tries to catch his breath. Junmyeon rubs his back, and he is panting himself. Their bodies are sticky with sweat and semen, but they keep holding each other in silence, something that has become second nature post coitus.

Slowly, Yifan lifts himself and kisses Junmyeon’s temple, then his nose, and then his lips. He heaves himself up and gets away from the bed to get a wet towel. As he returns, Junmyeon gets lulled to sleep by the warm towel cleaning him and the lazy smile on Yifan’s face.

If this is the end, Junmyeon doesn’t regret anything.

 

When Junmyeon wakes up, he notices three things: the room is too cold, he can smell nicotine and Yifan is not on the bed beside him. He realises it is still night and finds the answers to all his questions when he finds Yifan smoking on the balcony. He gets up and throws a discarded sweater on him as he stumbles to reach the balcony. His limbs feel weak and from the way Yifan snapped his hips against the back of his thighs towards the end, Junmyeon can feel the bruises blooming there. He pads over to Yifan and throws his arms around Yifan’s waist. The older smiles and exhales the cloud of white smoke into the cold Seoul air. He smokes his cigarette in silence as Junmyeon hums an unknown tune under his breath, his cheeks pressed against Yifan’s silk robe. When Yifan is done with his cigarette, he stomps the butt down on the cold metal railings of the balcony to extinguish the dying flame. He flicks the stick over his balcony and watches it descent for a while.

Yifan says, “Sing louder.” He intertwines his fingers through Junmyeon’s cold, small ones.

Junmyeon chuckles before he indulges Yifan’s request.

_You make me crazy_

_You make me wild_

_Just like a baby, spin me round like a child_

_Your skin so golden brown_

**Author's Note:**

> the song sung by Junmyeon is the same as fic title
> 
> This is what happens when I get too bored at work....
> 
> Now I quite like the way the story is, so I am not planning any sequels! Thank you for reading!


End file.
